


Forgotten

by hktk



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Emotional Hurt, F/M, Implied Past Azem/Emet-Selch, Makeouts, Memories, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28562412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hktk/pseuds/hktk
Summary: Something did feel even more familiar. She reached out with a hand in her mind, reaching through pitch black but... but—But what was she reaching for?
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! Another request finished, this time for [Maggie](https://twitter.com/Maggiekcrp)! Thank you ♡
> 
> Feel free to send requests [my way](https://twitter.com/_thujanes)! Enjoy!

“But let us turn our attention to more important matters, such as the Qitana Ravel.”

Y’shtola was quick to suggest it, even after having just been plucked from the lifestream. Rosa’harrio thought for a moment, and she almost suggested that Y’shtola take a short rest before everyone gets back to everything—yet she knew that they neither had the time to do so, nor was Y’shtola wont to listen even if they  _ did _ have time. 

Urianger and Thancred were first to leave, with the others close behind. Curiously enough, though, Emet-Selch didn’t move, gazing at the backs of the Scions that had departed, just like Rosa’harrio was. She hadn’t moved, either, except for a slight turn of the head to direct her gaze towards the Ascian. 

Emet-Selch smiled gently—for the few moments that this particular smile existed, he looked soft and... tired, almost? Well, he always looked tired, she amended in her thoughts, but he looked  _ exhausted _ in that very moment. 

She blinked when he turned towards her, sweeping his hands out in a grand motion before bowing. The elegance of the smile had been lost to time, replaced with an utterly baffling, fake smirk—as he usually wore.

As Emet-Selch straightened himself and let his arms drop to the sides, he raised his eyebrows, curiously enough. “We are alone now,” he pointed out. 

All Rosa’harrio could do was nod. “... ‘suppose we are,” she replied.

He gave a little shrug of the shoulders, then turned to begin walking away. “I’d like to meet you alone again, if you’ll have me,” he said, not looking back. He did his standard handwave. “Let us go to the... ah, what was it called? That’s right—the Isle of Sisters.” 

Rosa’harrio followed after him, realizing that his voice was growing faint as the distance between them grew. “And what would you have of me there?” 

“Oh, you know,” was his cryptic reply. He said nothing else, though he did stop walking. 

She snorted, nearly running into his back. After readjusting herself, she moved to stand in front of him, an annoyed expression plain as day on her face. Emet-Selch held a hand out to her. 

“I can take you there,” he said. “We can talk of... important matters.” 

“ _ Important _ matters?” she quipped back. Rosa’harrio’s gaze glanced between his hand and his face, several times over. She took a tentative step forward, however, unable to find herself resisting for longer—and color her intrigued, anyway. “Such as?” 

“Well, you shall see when we get there. Now, come on. I haven’t got all day.” 

Another brief wave of hesitation washed over her. Apprehension gripped her arm, screamed at her to pull her hand back. But by the time she thought  _ truly _ to herself that this was perhaps a bad idea, her hand was already in his. 

Emet-Selch dragged her off, pulling at her. He walked backwards into a voidal portal, and she followed suit—it wasn’t as if she had a choice, anyway. It was a strange thing, teleporting this way. Darkness enveloped her very core, her insides crying out for relief. Yet Emet-Selch did not let go of her hand, and before she knew it, she had stepped forth into another neck of the woods. 

In his arms, against his chest, one might add. His arms were loosely wrapped around her. 

“I suppose my comrades in arms never gave you a taste of such a method of traveling,” he professed, as if apologetic. She swatted his hands away and took at least two steps back, but because it was in embarrassed panic, perhaps it was a few more than she intended. Her back hit the bark of a tree. 

Rosa’harrio glared daggers at him, and he just shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. He glanced away for a moment, placing a singular hand on a hip—his gaze to the sky. Her own line of sight eventually followed suit.

The light filtered in through the thick canopy of trees. Honestly, it hurt her eyes a little—she could only imagine what it was like for someone like an Ascian to be staring at it. Even as he spoke, so softly, so sweetly... so  _ unlike _ him, he continued to stare up at that never-ending, unceasing rain of light. 

“You’ve changed,” were the single two words he said for a very long time. Rosa’harrio kept quiet, turning her gaze towards him now, staring at him so hard she swore he would collapse just from that. But he didn’t. After a while, he even continued speaking. 

“You’re not what you once were. I don’t think you’ll ever be what you once were.” 

His gaze softened, and he held a hand up to shield his eyes before looking over at her, too. He took several steps to close the gap between her, slow and steady, as if he were waiting for her to run away—as if he were approaching a quarry about to be preyed upon, one that he didn’t want to spook. 

She tensed, though she didn’t run away, as every bone in her body willed her to. Where would she go? This was an island, as far as she knew. She had no way off. Not without him. 

Emet-Selch placed one hand at the side of her head, against the bark of the tree she leaned upon. Rosa’harrio shrunk into herself, as if trying to make herself smaller. She still didn’t run, though. 

She didn’t  _ want _ to run. She wanted to be close to him. 

Finally, she spoke. “Have we met—” 

Her words were quickly swallowed by his lips on hers. She let out a soft gasp into the kiss, and Emet-Selch took advantage of this, sliding his tongue into her mouth. He pulled away after a moment—but not  _ too _ far away. Their breaths mingled in between them. She looked up at him, almost shyly. 

“Did that jog your memories?” he asked, plainly, almost innocently. 

There’s a beat—and now she looked like a prey animal, like a deer caught in headlights. She had no answer to his question, not wholly. He certainly tasted familiar, certainly felt familiar upon those lips, as if they were always meant to fit together. 

Without another word, he leaned down once more, connecting them both at the mouth. And again, his tongue begged entry into her mouth—to which she agreed almost immediately. Her hands found their way to the lapels of his coat, almost begging him to come closer. He relented, doing as she implicitly asked, snaking a knee in between her legs. 

The kiss continued on for what felt like forever. Something did feel even more familiar, the longer they were entwined like this, the longer she tasted him upon her, the longer he touched her in places she didn’t even know she wanted to be touched. She reached out with a hand in her mind, reaching through pitch black but... but—

But what was she reaching for? 

She almost had it in her hands when her linkpearl rang. Startled out of her kissing-induced reverie, she swallowed, pulling away from him in order to answer. He took a step back, parting from her entirely. She turned her head, face full of crimson. 

“Hello?” 

“ _ Hey _ ,” says Thancred, “ _ where’d you go? Did you get lost on your way back? _ ” 

“Eep—I-I mean. N-No! I was just... I was just speaking with Emet-Selch,” she lied. Well, it wasn’t entirely a lie. “I’m on my way back now.” 

“ _... Alright. Be careful with that man. _ ” 

The communication came to an end. 

When Rosa’harrio turned back to where Emet-Selch had been a few mere moments ago, he was gone. Nary a trace left in his wake—save for a single amaro, with a ribbon attached to its neck. She blinked a few times, thanking the gods she wouldn’t have to travel by portal alone. 


End file.
